This post kinda makes me laugh a little. A few years ago before I started Uni I had set my sights on the London College of Fashion. I was a real fashion n00b (even more so than I am now) and I spent my days watching every fashion chick flick ever invented. Side note: I don't even like chick flicks! But alas, the big city bug had got me. I was well an truly in love to London - and the funny part? I'd only been there once. If I could have walked around all day in an I heart London t-shirt, I probably would have done. That, or I'd have tried to change my name to Big Ben or something. I cannot quite stress the obsession I had with that city at the time.

Anyway, I decided not to go to LCF, and instead I moved away for the first time in my life to live just outside of London in Epsom, Surrey. I like to play things pretty safe when I can, so I thought that living on the outskirts would be a great way for me to transition from living in the countryside to the big smoke. Oh, and when I say countryside, I really do mean countryside. Think more cows than people..

So needless to say when my country bumpkin family found out I was fleeing the nest the response was a little underwhelming. "You'll hate it" said my Mum. "Why would you want to do that?" said my Dad. It wasn't them trying to put a negative spin on my choices, it was worry. I was the youngest and I was about to move away to a city I'd pretty much never been to, and - probably more dangerously - I had way too many expectations. Really, really high ones. And that always ends in tears.

So I guess this is probably a good time for me to go into why I actually wanted to go to London in the first place - as it just dawned on me that maybe not everyone caught the London bug like I did. But basically - to put a long story short - London was exciting. London was completely alien to everything I was used to and living there was going to be the first step I'd take towards my dream career. And I was right. Kinda.

So what happened? Well, it turns out that whilst London was great for my career, that was all it was ever good for for me. I don't need to tell any of you that London is expensive, and that you have to be earning pretty well if you want to even share a place with your mates, let alone get your own flat. And don't even think about actually buying property unless..nope, just don't think about it. The prices of houses in London are terrifying. And don't even get me started on the cost of food. This girl likes to eat.

Anyway, enough about my love for food, and more onto my lack of love for London. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy heading up there every once in a while for meetings and a bit of sight seeing, but that's just about it these days. After living (just about) in London for a year I decided to move back home to all of my home comforts, friends and family..and cats. One year on and - looking back - it's dawned on me exactly how wrong I was to think that London was the answer to all of my problems.

In the past twelve months the blog has grown like mad, Ollie and I have moved in together, we now have four children (and by that I mean pets), I'm back with my old friends, I get to see my family all the time and - get this - I actually have savings. I live in a three bedroom modern house in the centre of town with a garden...and I'm saving money as I do it. What is life.

But i think the main reason I've lost my love for London is because I've regained my love for the life I already had, that was right in front of me this whole time. I have freedom to do what I want, a career (or at least, something that brings in the $$$) that I absolutely adore and - in short - I'm happier than I've ever been.. City of dreams? Pah. Who needs that when the beach is a ten minute drive away.